


The Enemy Within

by blue_crow



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Baptism, D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_crow/pseuds/blue_crow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tron has awakened and taken control of the Grid.  Clu struggles with his place in the new system, and his relationship to a man who is neither the Tron he once knew, nor the Rinzler he created.  This is a direct sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/162612">The Once & Future King</a>, and contains spoilers for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Enemy Within

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://blaaksable.livejournal.com/profile)[**blaaksable**](http://blaaksable.livejournal.com/) for an awesome beta and continued support.

The Sea of Simulation is as dark as the day he first corrupted it. Its glassy surface reflects no light, save where the water swells as it meets the rough texture of the shore. It is more peaceful now than it had ever been when it produced life- there is perfection in its stillness. He cannot understand why any of his actions have been called imperfect.

He kneels at the edge of the sea, fixed in place despite his restlessness. He doesn't like being made to wait, even a fraction of a millicycle. He never waited for anything when the system was his. Whether Tron will derezz him or repurpose him, he does not know, but his place in the system is uncertain. He has considered flight- going rogue, like User Flynn did before him, but he will stay and face Tron's justice. He is not his maker, and in the outskirts, he would have no purpose.

Tron's intentions must be to destroy him. There is no other reason that he would have chosen a location like this one for their meeting- the site where he first fell from grace. If he had intended to rectify him, he would have chosen the spot where Clu had rectified him- the square in Tron City. Why he's waited all this time to end him, Clu does not know, but he knows he has no choice but to submit to Tron's will.

The Sea senses the drone of the Throne Ship before he does, the surface trembling against the shore, and eventually it reflects the deep indigo of the ship's circuitry. The sight is still a fresh wound, and Clu does not turn to face it. The ship's change in color is a reminder of how much he's lost, and how there is no real place for him in Tron's new order.

Soon, steady footsteps crunch in the sand behind him. He doesn't stand or turn- he knows that the presence behind him is Tron.

"I remember the day you poisoned the Sea," Tron says, his words stiff.

"I did what I had to do," he answers, looking out into the water, taking in his last sight. "What I was created to do. I had to create the perfect system."

"The perfect system is one that best serves the needs of all its components," Tron asserts.

"I solved that problem. I removed the Isos from the equation. My system best serves the programs." Clu is desperate to make his argument again- Tron is not cruel enough to spark a conversation with him, only to derezz him immediately afterwards.

The low rumble in Tron's throat kicks in, a remnant from his cycles as Rinzler. It signals displeasure, but Clu is glad to hear it- he had thought all traces of Rinzler had been consumed by Tron, that the program he had relied on was gone forever. "That answer is lazy and cowardly. You can do better than this, Clu. You can transcend the flaws in your programming."

Clu aches at the words, finally moved to his feet. "I am the best program that has ever been written!"

"You are weak, Clu. You will grow stronger when you overcome your restrictions. This time, when the Isos return, you will not have access to such an easy solution."

"If you are not satisfied with my abilities, why don't you change my programming?" The innocent question is a knife between them, a recall to Clu's violent betrayal of Tron.

"That, too, would be an easy solution. If you were the shadow of yourself, like the one you made of me… you wouldn't have to confront the difficult questions of the system. You would escape guilt for your actions. I would enjoy… simple vengeance." Tron's eyes linger on him for a long moment. "But I will deny myself the satisfaction. I know you will follow my orders, regardless of your programming." The program smirks, an expression that Tron has never worn before, though he had seen it frequently on Rinzler. "Perhaps I will get more satisfaction out of watching you struggle with change."

Clu scowls, but says nothing. He knows he deserves Tron's vengeance, and he wonders if being a drone would salve his guilt. He doesn't regret the slaughter of the Isos, but he aches over what he had done to Tron, and how much he misses Rinzler.

Tron touches his neck, and then, with a tug, tears the coat from his shoulders.

Clu winces away from him, restraining the urge to snatch at the fabric, to reclaim such a personal symbol of his power. He stands, feeling vulnerable and exposed, as Tron slides it on, the circuits shifting to match his armor and his color. It is worse than the betrayal regarding the Throne Ship- and he considers fighting Tron for it. However, alone, out here- he knows it is a fight that he would lose. Instead, he stares into the sea, trying to conceal his emotions.

"Now, you will purify the sea, the same way that you corrupted it."

"And if I refuse?" Clu tests, tone neutral.

"I will force you into it. To survive, you must learn to adapt."

His first impulse is to turn and march right into it, to destroy himself rather than submit to Tron's orders. He can't imagine an eternity of doing Tron's bidding, bending to his every whim.

Tron studies him. "Your pride is your undoing, Clu. There is strength in faith. Let go."

"Why should I trust you?" Clu demands.

"Because you have no other choice. That is sufficient for now."

Clu forces a long, slow breath, as he looks out into the sea. He doesn't trust him. He can't. With everything that's passed between himself and the other program, it is impossible. If Tron has threatened him with derezzolution if he will not obey this order, he may threaten him at every turn. He will live in mindless fear. But this way, there is a chance- a possibility that Tron will see his way. The other path leads to sure answers, but any chance is better than none.

He returns to his knees and touches gloved fingers to the edge of the sea. He can feel his corruption in the water- every electron is stifled in a shell of his making. Only he knows the code to unlock them, to restore the sea.

Clu hesitates. His shoulders feel bare, his legs exposed. He'd grown used to what the coat meant, the status of it. Without the familiar weight on his shoulders, he feels lighter, less grounded. Perhaps he too may change.

One electron nudges his finger- he can feel it individually- and he removes the barrier. It sets off a chain reaction that ripples through the water, changing hollow black to brilliant blue. The sea comes alive, the ripples starting waves, and he watches in anticipation, in fear.

With every passing second, his expectations are worse, but no one walks from the sea. He glances at Tron- but the program is as stoic as ever.

"Have you cleansed it?" Tron asks.

"Yes, Clu answers, his voice steady despite his fear.

"Prove it. If the sea is safe, you can enter it without harm."

Clu's eyes flash with hostility, but he steels himself. He's cleansed the sea. He feels the need to prove his honesty, his strength to the other program, and he holds his head high as he walks into water, until he is waist-deep.

The waves lap at his hips, and the water- once a monument to his rage- is welcoming.

He hears the ripples created by Tron's footsteps as he approaches, and soon the other program is behind him again. Indigo fingers run up along his shoulders, and he trembles at the touch. There is so much pain between them that he is unwilling to face.

"Let go, Clu," Tron breathes against his neck, and he lowers his hand into the water. He cups it, drawing water into it, and raises it above Clu's head, letting it fall in drops over his hair, ruining his perfect image. Tron concentrates for a long moment, his eyes closing, and the coat fans around him in the water.

Lightning flashes in the distant sky, and rain begins to fall around them. Clu leans back against Tron's strong shoulders, as the rain soaks through his hair, over his skin. He understands the lesson- he can no more stop Tron's rule than he can the forces inherent in the Grid, and he must submit.

He loses all track of time as he absorbs the energy from the sky, letting Tron's arms hold him against his body. Some of his emotions drain- his rage at Flynn, his fear of Tron, his hatred of the Isos. There is perfection in the moment, even though the water is tumultuous and the rain irregular.

The rain dies down to a soft mist, and he turns to meet Tron's eyes. The program has softened some- the change is marginal, but Clu can sense it. He feels a bond of faith between them. Tron orders him, not because he enjoys the control, but because he knows that Clu is uncertain and requires direction. They may not always agree, but perhaps- that won't be so terrible.

Tron leads him back into the ship, and he follows, obedient. The coat sheds the moisture, and flows around Tron's ankles. It suits him. The guards- now a liberated blue instead of imperial red, treat him with a respect they never offered Clu- they drop to one knee and watch the ground as he passes. The extreme show of subservience troubles him, but he can't help but feel the same loyalty.

The central chamber of the Throne Ship has changed to indigo as well, but it is hardly a shock. The room is darker- the indigo produces less light, and the furnishings have smaller details of the color instead of the bold stripes of gold they once displayed. It is somber instead of indulgent.

Tron settles onto the couch, the coat falling around him majestically. He beckons silently, and Clu takes the seat beside him. Their position is an echo of one he had held with Rinzler, many times, as they watched games too inconsequential for the warrior's involvement. When his enjoyment of the sport waned, he would glance sidelong at the program, and derezz a section of his armor, exposing his sex, and Rinzler would drop to his knees before him. It had always made him feel so powerful, to have Rinzler obey him that way, despite the knowledge that the program was as powerful as he.

Tron's fingers hover around his own hip, and his suit derezzes just enough to expose his cock. Clu knows what is expected of him, but he hesitates. He wants to repair his relationship with Tron, but the symmetry of the gestures deepens his shame of betrayal, and the invitation is lewd and shameful. He should feel lust at the sight, but all he feels is Rinzler's absence.

A low growl in Tron's throat is the only threat he needs, and he drops to his knees before the other program. He studies him, but Tron's expression holds no clue- he is stern, but neutral.

Clu licks a line from base to tip, and sucks experimentally at the head, trying to sway his expression into the lusty smirk he remembers as Rinzler's, but he has no luck. For now, however, the program gives him no direction- gloved fingers thread through his damp hair, ruffling curls in some moderate sense of approval as Clu takes Tron into his mouth, as far as is comfortable. He closes his eyes and sucks him gently, playing his tongue along the underside of the shaft like he'd encouraged Rinzler to do. The growl ceases, and the pressure from Tron's hand increases as he flicks his tongue over the tender spot beneath the head. He tries to look up at Tron's expression, but the program holds his head down- gently, not impaling his mouth on his cock, just keeping his eyes averted from him.

Clu works over his cock until his jaw is sore, sucking and lapping at him, and he begins to worry that Tron will never give him further direction. Then Tron's fingers tug the hair at the nape of his neck, and he raises his head, meeting his eyes.

"Disrobe," Tron orders, and Clu taps the circuit by his hip, derezzing his suit immediately. He knows he hasn't made proper amends, especially because Tron hasn't finished. A subtle jerk of Tron's head, and Clu stands without a thought. It isn't that he's eager to please anymore- it's that he feels he has to. His life- and his redemption- hang in the balance.

Tron reaches for where he had always kept lubricant, a trick he must have learned from Flynn long ago, and slicks his fingers. He beckons Clu closer, and spreads his knees so that Clu stands against the edge of the couch, bending forward a little so that Tron can prepare him. He's not particularly gentle, but neither is he brutal. The neutrality is worse than anger would be, than Tron enacting vengeance. Clu does not want an eternity of silence.

He realizes that he'd rather be derezzed than continue this way forever.

"I preferred you as Rinzler," he growls, and in seconds Tron has pinned him to the couch, a hand at his throat. Finally there's an expression in Tron's eyes, a flicker of anger, and he makes himself keep going. "I liked it best when he begged me. When just touching me was enough to make him come. He needed me. You've never loved anyone, have you, Tron? Not Yori, not me- no, you were just fulfilling your functions-"

Tron hisses and digs his fingers into his neck, bruising him. "You justify what you did to me with love? No, don't disguise your weakness. You couldn't convince me to take your side."

"Because you only cared about the Users-" Clu manages, around the hand on his throat, and it jars all of his emotions loose. Tron and Flynn had been so happy together, and he'd always been on the outside, watching them. How could he, a program, have competed with a User? Even when Tron had shared his bed, his mind had been on the needs and wants of his User. The only way he'd been able to get through to Tron, to matter to him, had been to rectify him, to become his User. He had loved Rinzler, because at least that program had known how to return the emotion. He had been dangerous, unstable, but his entire focus had been on Clu, and the feeling had been glorious.

"You're right," Tron growls against his neck. "Everything was about pleasing the Users. That is the life of a program, a purpose you've clearly never understood."

Clu tenses beneath him, unable to look at him. "I was right to rectify you. I cured you of them- of your slavery. Rinzler was free-" He reaches to rerezz his suit, to cover himself, but Tron stays his hand.

"Rinzler was your slave, as I was a slave to the Users. But the two sides together- that has freed me. You must walk another path to your own freedom."

Clu struggles against him, wanting distance from the program. He doesn't want to have this conversation while naked and pinned to the couch.

Tron's voice is soft against his ear, soothing him. "My original programming did not know rage, or passion. It is the part of me that you created that truly understands these things. It is this part that cannot be without you."

The statement brings his grief to a dead halt, and his emotions invert on him, turning to grief. "Tron-" he gasps, and the program stops him with a kiss, one full of intense emotion, all of Tron's tenderness and Rinzler's passion.

"No," he murmurs. "When it is us, together, I would have you call me Rinzler."

"Rinzler," Clu repeats, loving the sound of the name on his lips.

The program repeats the kiss, overwhelming him, and in a swift shift of his hips, he's inside him. Clu gasps at the sudden change, but Rinzler doesn't give him time to adjust, fucking him brutally. His hands bruise his arms as he holds him in place, and the coat that falls around them muffles the sound of violent thrusts. Every one draws a moan out of Clu's lips, and he bares his neck to Rinzler, who claims his throat with his teeth.

As painful as it is, it lights up his circuits in ways that neither Rinzler or Tron ever managed- the program's need overwhelms him.

Rinzler's mouth traces down to attack the circuits on his shoulder, his tongue tracing the ring on his skin, and Clu arches up desperately, grinding his cock against his lover's stomach. His fingers dig into the lines of circuitry on his arms, and Clu can feel his whole body start to overheat. His mind blanks for a second as he orgasms, covering his own stomach, and when he looks down, Rinzler's bodysuit glows golden from it as well.

Another few thrusts, and he feels Rinzler come inside him. The program gasps against his shoulder, shuddering with climax, and then settles against him to catch his breath. He allows Clu the use of his arms again, and Clu strokes his hair. His lust sated, Rinzler seems more like Tron again, but Clu is content knowing that the traits he liked best are still in his lover. That knowledge alone is enough to secure his trust.

After a long moment, Rinzler sits up, wiping his suit clean with a gloved hand, and licking his fingers clean. Clu smirks contentedly, delaying rerezzing his suit. Rinzler resumes his seat on the couch, raising Clu's shoulders so that he is draped over his lap, and Clu relaxes.

Perhaps he's happier with mussed, damp hair, glowing stains of sexual activity on his body, and without his coat. Tron wears it better than he ever did.

Out the window, the sea is turbulent with potential.  



End file.
